


Hodgepodge

by headstudents



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, just one-shots, with very little/next to none plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-05-31 19:34:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headstudents/pseuds/headstudents
Summary: A series of nonsensical drabbles and one-shots that hopefully will warm someone's loins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The point of this particular drabble was to write something under 500 words. And I did, yay me!

Lily winced slightly as the finger-numbing ice pocket made contact with her upper arm where a decent-sized bruise was already forming.

Perfect. It was going to look wonderful with a white of her dress.

She should have listened to James and take it easy for a few days, especially considering that the ceremony was supposed to take place in two days. But when Sirius had accosted her, all-bravado and mischief in his eyes with a prospect of finally working through that shield spell problem they had on their last mission and she couldn't really say no; neither did she want to.

And now here she was, standing in the kitchen by the dishes-filled sink pressing a bag of ice against her Quaffle-sized swelling.

The sound of approaching footsteps followed a quick rap on the door alerted her of another presence in the flat.

She glanced over her unharmed shoulder, and spoke, "Hey there stranger."

"Hey, you," he said airily and leaned easily against the doorframe, one arm holding himself up, and smiling he pointed at her arm.  
"You know there's this paste in the bathroom that removes things like that in an hour, right? Why are torturing yourself with the ice?"

"Pain strengthens the character."

"I think your character is strong enough for the both of us," he beamed at her, his expression was warm and affectionate. "You look like shite though. I hope you made the other guy look worse, at least?"

"Your wooing skills are unparallel. If it wouldn't be for this," she shrugged her injured shoulder, "I would drop my pants in a second."

"Let me close the door before you do. Sirius is downstairs I'd hate to scandalise him."

Lily said turning around to face him, "Speaking of Sirius, he's the one responsible for this."

James tilted his head as he quirked of an eyebrow, "And you let him get away with it?"

A short laugh escaped her lips, "Of course not, but on the other hand it helped me come to the conclusion that my inability to say no to him will land us in some serious trouble one day."

For an instant, he pushed off the wall and made his way towards her. "Well, to be fair, you always had a problem with staying out of trouble. With or without him. It would explain why you're so eager to marry me."

Lily instinctively scooted closer and rested her head on his chest when he slid his arm around her waist. "Don't sell yourself so short. You're also filthy rich and incredibly fit, you know your blue-bloodied arse is quite precious to me."

His low chuckle filled the thick silence as they remained locked in a close embrace, gently swaying from side to side, completely at peace with each other. Until James leant back and gazed at her arm.

"Since we're on the topic of blue and bloody: this nasty bruise will go wonderfully with the white of your dress."

"That's exactly what I thought!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt: "You have nearly arrived at your dream destination. Thus far, the trip has been uneventful, and there’s only an hour’s drive left between you and vacation bliss—when suddenly the vehicle breaks down, leaving you stranded. Where are you, and what do you do?" found on writerdigest

If she wouldn't be so terrified of attracting a bear she would let a scream loud enough to be heard in the nearest town.

She's not one-hundred per cent sure that there are bears amongst these trees, or whether this is actually a forest and not just some enormous park that masks itself as forest to attract Blair Witch Project fan, at least those who are determined enough to move from their couches and Buzzfeed Unsolved binge.

Either way, she's not going to risk it, so she swallows her frustrations and slams the bonnet of the car down, her mouth set in a determined line. In moments like this one, she wishes she was a bit more assertive and she could stomp her foot down and say definitively while looking Mary straight in her big brown eyes that no, she's not going to take her beloved car across the country, no matter what how much she begs and pleads.

But Lily couldn't say no, not to Mary, her oldest friend; her oldest friend who is getting married in twenty hours all the way over in Edinburgh because apparently, Cattermole for all his timidness doesn't spare any money on pleasing Mary.

She gets it, she truly does, it's not an ordinary car after all. Mary received it as an inheritance from her now-deceased parents the year they started uni. Lily, Mary and the car (which Mary vehemently refused to name, not wanting to be one of Those People) went through a lot together: breakups, makeups, deflowerings (of Cattermole at least), late night study sessions when library was closed and their third roommate decided to get randy with her girlfriend; that one time when they used the car as a shelter from a herd of angry sheep.

There are a plethora of memories connected to this car, and now that Mary decided to start a new path in her life she needs them all with her. It should be obvious why Lily had no other choice than to pack her bags in the old disgustingly orange Volkswagen Golf, fill up the tank, say one little prayer for good luck and move her merry way across the whole bloody country.

The beginnings of her journey slid past smoothly with her Spotify playlist filling out the silence, and there's no way she could portend her current predicament.

The thing is that somewhere along the way of Exmoor, the car has just stopped.

Inexplicably, with a sudden jolt, almost as if a giant hand ceased her vehicle immobilizing it from any further movements.

And of course, this happens in the middle of the road that cuts the park-or-maybe-the-forest-it's-still-undecided perfectly through the middle with a curvy and bendy line.

Her phone also refuses to cooperate – fucking Xiaomi – which makes her a little bit suspicious, especially since a few seconds ago she listening to how there was something in the air that night when the stars were bright with Fernando.

Nevertheless, she refuses to yield to the panic she can sense writhing beneath the facade of her ostensibly composed demeanour, grabbing her most valued possessions; including her maid of honour's dress because Mary would exterminate her if she lost it (if a serial killer somehow didn't get to finish the job) and she heads down the road with hope of making it to the closest town. She sure as hell is not waiting around for help, or murder, she's going to and get it herself.

Before she makes it far enough to lose a sight of the car, Lily notices a single faint light heading her way.

The red suggests she's facing a back of (what she assumes) is a bicycle since she can't hear an engine running. But there's no way she missed anyone passing her by unless this one came out through the trees, which means that some maniac who wrongly placed lights on his bike is approaching her with staggering speed.

Serial killers usually don't ride on bicycles, right?

(Expect of Jigsaw – God, she hopes it's not a Jigsaw).

Still, simply as a precaution, she grips the car keys a wee bit tighter and runs up to the side of the road in case she needed to dive into the bushes to take cover.

As the cyclist gets closer Lily notes that her suspicions were correct – red light is prominently mounted at the front of the bike. It also becomes quite obvious that this nocturnal voyager outgrew his conveyance by more-or-less a decade.

His knees are bent at an unnatural angle, and each time he pedals up they're higher than his elbows; his back is hunched enough to give Quasimodo a run for his money (that is if he had any), however, a mad grin on his face makes her believe he's not in the slightest uncomfortable pedaling like that.

If it wouldn't be for the aforementioned red light and all the creaks and squeaks of the bike itself, he would glide through the night rather smoothly with skin looking almost tawny, bathed in warm bronze, hair a mess of the darkest waves and curls that don't want to stay in one place, and a black or very deep-blue shirt he clearly put on backwards and inside out because the tag is visibly hanging under his neck.

Unfortunately Lily doesn't have the privilege of blending into the night; her skin too pale, too porcelain, too-Lily-are-you-alright-you-look-ill; her hair too red, even more so in contrast with her face; on top of it all she's got her bright lemon fluorescent bag with her – thanks for that gift, Mary.

She must look like a ghost to him. A creepy dead-looking girl with her garish bag and one foot in the bushes. At least that's how she explains to herself his mouth-agape staring as he drives past her.

If he twists his head a few inches more he's going to cut Linda Blair from Exorcist.

His bike stops abruptly, as he easily stops pedalling and sets his feet on the ground – no putting the brakes on, he just plants his feet on the ground almost as if he's standing up from a chair – he lifts the bike a bit from the ground with the wheels still spinning.

Furrowed brow, darting confused eyes, mouth closing and opening in a grotesque manner, he stands there, tall (taller than she initially thought, way taller) and lovely (even more so up-close), and she doesn't know what to do, so she says the first thing that comes to her mind.

"Your bike is too small."

He looks down perplexed, almost like he forgot he's holding it, but he quickly gathers his wits and setting it down, he turns to face her fully.

"It's my brother's," he says sounding slightly aghast at her accusation.

"And how old is he?"

He blinks up at her before swallowing. "Twenty-one."

Lily bites down on her lip to keep the laughter in. "Right. Listen, my car –"

"You shouldn't be here," he interrupts her, staring at her intently.

She takes a tentative step back. "Yes, trust me, I don't want to be here, but as I was saying my car –"

"If you wouldn't want to be here, then you wouldn't be here. Only people with purpose find this place." He pauses briefly, and then asks with a tone of suspicion, "Did the Ministry send you?"

"The Mini–what?!" Of course. Of course that she would encounter a complete nutter in the middle of a road leading to nowhere, as far away from any civilization as it can be.

"Look, I already told Bagnold that her plan is completely mental and if she thinks that I'm going to participate, or that Sirius would, then she's more off her bloody rocker than I thought", he says, his voice rising with each word, "so why won't you apparate back to London and tell her that Godric's Hollow is off limits."

"Erm.." He stunned her. It's like one of those moments when a substitute teacher graces you with a surprise test from a material you've never even heard about. Is he allowed? Sure. Does your blood pressure rises to dangerous levels, and sanity tethers on an edge of sanity? Sure, but that's school for you.

She's an adult now, well, adult-ish. As much as someone who just a few months ago passed through the threshold of being officially twenty-one can be considered an adult. No more homework for her or keeping up with deadlines of unwanted group projects, now her only responsibility in life is to keep herself alive, which is why she has half-mind to run back into the car, lock herself in, and wait until some other unfortunate soul will pass by.

However, as she's in a bit of a rush, she opts to stay cool and getting away from him as fast as she can.

"Alright, here's the deal. I don't know who this Arnold lady is, or any of the rest of the things you've just said, so I'm going to appreciate if you tell me whether I will find a repair shop or at least a working phone if I continue to stroll down this road."

"Oh, no," he blinks up at her with a rather adorable realisation. "Oh, Merlin. You're a Muggle."

"I'm a–, excuse me," she says offended. "A mugger? Where are you getting that from?"

"No, no," he corrects quickly. "A Mug–." He stops and she can see as his eyes dart over her face that he does some quick thinking. "Actually, forget about it. I'm sorry, I made a mistake, I just thought it's my mates having a laugh at me as usual, and I almost cocked it all up."

"Sure," she says unconvinced, still eying him suspiciously. "So, the road?" Lily raises her brow and points with her thumb behind her shoulder.

"Right. You could go to Molly's, it's probably closed at this hour but try knocking at the back, say what happened and that James sends you."

"I'm going to guess you're James."

"Yeah, I am. Hi," he shuffles back a couple of steps, his bright, hazel eyes cast down towards the ground in barely detectable embarrassment.

Lily clears her throat, not wanting to prolong his discomfort, "How about a repair shop?"

James lets out a small laugh. "It's a small town, a village really, so there's no repair shop and no need for one, but my mate does some tinkling every now and then."

"Good, where can I find him?"Lily asks putting her hand on her hips.

"Oh, he's in the forest now, waiting for me and all that beer," he nods his head at the bike.

"Why is he in the forest?"

" 'cause it's the fool moon," he states staring at her like she's missing something obvious.

"You always hang around in the forest during the full moon?"

"Yeah, we are." A sudden realisation passes across his face like a sense of a panic would stir inside him. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Remus..." he whispers, peering into something in the trees, she shifts slightly to see what it is, but she finds only unmoving trees.

When she turns back to face him, his eyes are again trained on her as he says, "Listen, you should go. It's not safe here this time at night."

"Right," she drawls, sidestepping him. "How far is that town?"

"Ten minutes, maybe even less if you hurry."

"Great, thanks."

She stops briefly considering if she should say something more, or tell him her name, ask if everything's alright, but this is no time and place to make friends, so with a wave of a hand she turns and makes her way down the road.

Hopefully, it's the last she sees of that guy.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know – part 2 of the donor-bound...it's been written, albeit slowly, but I'll get there ;))


End file.
